Of Airplane Bets and Facebook Statuses
by burninghighwayskyline
Summary: Santana and Rachel and the plane ride to Nationals. Pandemonium Ensues. Pezberry friendship with minor Brittana and Finchel.


Summary: Santana and Rachel and the plane ride to Nationals. Pezberry friendship with minor Brittana and Finchel.

A/N: So this is my first try at Pezberry friendship and I can't promise you it's funny (considering I have my own form of awkward humor O.O) buuutt, I tried, and I hope I did justice to the characters personalities. I'm a little hesitant about that.

p.s. it's late and i don't have the energy to really clean up the spelling and shit but I'll do it tomorrow(:

**PLEASE DO NOT FAVORITE WITH OUT REVIEWING. **thanks!

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"Okay guys," Mr. Schue clapped his hands together, "We'll be boarding shortly, so if anyone has to, erm, use the restroom, I suggest you do it now. Airplane bathrooms are a lot less pleasant than airport bathrooms."

Santana rolled her eyes. That was practically the first sentence he'd said to Glee since they'd gotten to Columbus Regional Airport. He was too busy having onesided eye sex with Mrs. Pillsbury to care much about helping them get through security (Brittany had tried to sit on the conveyor belt at Security). Too damn bad the clean freak didn't bring her hot hunk of a husband. 'Cause _damn, _that was some kind of dentist.

Santana surveyed her surroundings. Puck and Lauren were sitting next to each other. Lauren was eating an airport hot dog while Puck watched her intensely. Santana made a face; there was something seriously wrong with Puckerman these days.

Sam was sitting next to her, but turned away, talking to Mike about something. Most likely Avatar. Santana didn't know what was so "intesifyingly amazingtastical and shit" (even _she _cringed at the grammar) about Avatar, but Sam practically worshipped the long ass movie which she found boring and. . . yeah, pretty much just that.

Brittany and Artie were sitting on the other side of Mike; Brittany on the end and Artie in his chair. She watched as Mr. Schue walked over to them and started talking, probably about getting Artie on the flight. Sure enough, Artie was being wheeled away by Mr. Schue. Santana contemplated going to sit with Brittany, but remembered the "kind of fight" they were still in. She watched as Brittany followed after her boyfriend and teacher and Santana sighed quietly.

Finn and Quinn were sitting next to each other a little ways from everyone else; Quinn with her nose in Teen Vogue (probably looking up more ways to be a manipulating bitch) and Finn staring off into space (probably trying to remember how to tie his shoes).

She turned to her left, to see a few seats down, Mercedes and Rachel laughing loudly at something Tina had just said.

She took that back, Finn was obviously drooling over Rachel; not recalling how to tie his shoes.

"Calling all passengers to boarding for flight 431 to New York."

Mrs. Pillsbury jumped out of her seat.

"That's us! Make sure you don't leave any luggage or trash behind and please remember to buckle your seat belts when you get on board!" Santana kicked her half empty Diet Coke bottle under the seat.

She pulled her boarding pass out of her purse, looking at her seat number. 18 C. She silently wished that Brittany was 18 D. Maybe if they got to talking on the flight they could work out some issues and— oh God, she sounded like such a desperate loser.

"What's your seat number?" Sam asked her as they made their way into the plane.

"Eighteen C, yours?"

Sam double checked his boarding pass. "Fourteen A . . . guess you'll have to endure an hour with out me." She rolled her eyes, "God knows _that'll _be hard." Sam looked slightly offended but shook it off and smiled at the Flight Attendant that greeted him. Santana stared at the back of his blonde head, trying not to touch the filthy arm's of people that were already sitting down. Sam took his seat in fourteen A and Santana moved four rows back, taking her seat in the ugly patterned chair. The person whom would presumably sit next to her wasn't there yet, and she crossed her fingers that she would get the whole row to herself.

She rested her head on the hard seat and closed her eyes, hoping to get a few Zzz's before they landed in New York. She heard a very familiar squeak and her eyes snapped open quickly. She looked up at Berry.

"Nothing to see here Berry, move along," she shoo'ed and closed her eyes again.

"Actually," the brunette spoke, "I think we're seat buddies for this flight."

_Fuck. No._

"Oh _hell _to the no," Santana yelled, grabbing the attention of the people around them, "I am _not _spending an hour and a half flight sitting next to _you_!" Rachel's stare became a hard glare. "Well, it's not as though I'd like to spend an hour and a half of _my_ time with a female version of a full-blown neanderthal!_ But_, I will be mature, and will look at this as practice of my patience for the times I have incompatible co-stars in my future days as a Broadway actress."

"Oh God Berry, please shut up. _Who even talks like that?_"

Rachel huffed and took her seat next to Santana.

The next fifteen minutes were quiet, and Santana thought the plane would never take off. They'd been sitting on the runway for what felt like three days, especially with Berry sitting next to her, quietly singing along to the plane's radio's Broadway station.

The flight attendant spoke through the loud speaker and Rachel gave a small screech, cringing at the loud noise coming through her earphones and pulling them out quickly. Santana smirked in her direction and Rachel bit her bottom lip, rubbing at her ears.

"Ladies and Gentleman we apologize for the wait. We shall be taking off shortly."

Santana grabbed the Sky Mall out the seat's pocket and started flipping through it.

"Boring. Boring. Gay. Boring. Seriously? Stupid. Lame. Overused. Full of—"

"_Do you mind?_" Rachel asked, glaring at Santana.

Santana ignored her, "Oh God, they have a marshmallow gun shooter thingy? This is absolutely amazing! This is genius! Shit, I have _got _to tell Britt—" Santana stopped herself, and flipped the page. Rachel studied her.

"Are you and Brittany fighting?" She finally asked, her expression transforming into what Santana thought looked like pity.

Santana scoffed, "Mind your own damn business."

She looked at Rachel from the corner of her eye, and sighed loudly when she saw Rachel looking at her like she'd just been slapped.

"Yes. ...Not that it's any of your business."

"...Well do you want to talk about it?" Rachel asked, turning her head to look fully at Santana.

"Nope, not really."

"I know how you feel, y'know? I thought Finn and I were starting to become friends again, getting a little closer day by day, but Quinn's been all over him and I just. . . It's not worth it, I guess."

Santana rolled her eyes, wondering how that had anything to do with Britt and her fighting.

"Shut it Berry. Me and Britt are nothing like you and Frankenteen."

"...I see the way you look at her. And when you sang her Landslide? That was beautiful. You love her don't you?"

"Again, not everything is your business Berry."

Rachel gave her a look. Santana rolled her eyes, "So what if I do? She doesn't love me ba— Oh shit, what am I _doing? _You're Rachel Berry. Rachel. Berry," she enunciated, as if to remind herself, "I am _not _talking about this with you."

Rachel shrugged, "I understand, but if you want my opinion—"

"Which I don't!"

"—I'd bet money that she loves you back." Rachel gave a small smile and Santana rolled her eyes, but quickly returned it.

"Prepare for lift off," came a voice from the loud speaker.

"C'mon, Berry. You wouldn't bet money on _shit. _It's like, illegal or something."

Rachel gasped, "Betting, if I remember correctly, _is most definitely not _illegal. And I'll have you know I once won a bet against Noah!"

Santana raised her eyebrows, "Oh really, and what was this bet on?"

Rachel hesitated before answering, "I bet that I could eat ten Oreo Cookies in one minute."

"What, in your head full of crazy ass shit, told you to agree to that bet?"

"I don't know! Noah just brings out the worst in me sometimes. . . but as I mentioned previously, _I won! _Noah had to pay me _thirty dollars _and buy me a tub of vegan ice cream. Winning felt _so good._"

Santana laughed at the image that had popped into her head. Rachel, with crumbs all over her face, smirking at a befuddled Puckerman.

"How about you? Have you won any bets?"

Santana scoffed, "Me? I've never _lost _a bet Berry!"

"I doubt that. . . "

"No, like, seriously, Latinas are made for betting on things. It's in our blood." Rachel raised her eyebrows at this. "Oh yeah?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Um, yes."

"Well let's make a bet right now. I win and you have to let me change your facebook status to whatever I want."

Santana showed no hesitation, "Whatever. What's the best?"

"Hmmm, I bet that—" Rachel observed the area, looking for something to bet on, "I bet that I can convince the flight attendant that I'm crazy!"

"...Being yourself isn't betting on anything Berry," Santana pointed out.

Rachel huffed.

"I bet you can't guzzle down a can of Sprite in less than thirty seconds," Santana said, reaching for her bag.

She conveniently pulled out a can of sprite from her oversized purse and handed it to Rachel. Rachel looked at it nervously, "I don't normally drink beverages with lots of carbohydrates."

"If you don't do it I automatically win the bet."

Rachel took the can from Santana's hands immediately, "Fine." Santana smirked. She pulled out her iPhone, quickly turned it on Airplane Mode, and pressed the Timer App.

Rachel opened the can and it made a small noise.

"On "go", kay?"

"Yeah, got it."

"1, 2, 3, go." She pressed start on the timer.

Rachel put the can to her lips and threw her head back. Santana could hear the liquid going down her throat.

"Fifteen seconds Berry," Santana smiled slyly.

Rachel ignored her and continued to suck down the soda. With 4.9 seconds left Rachel took the can from her lips and breathed deeply. She looked down at the phone and the time is displayed.

"Oh my gosh, I win! HA HA! I win! Oh my goodness, I win! I win! I win! I can't believe it! I didn't think I could do it at first. I mean, a whole can. And that's tons of empty calories. But I did it. I—" Rachel was interrupted by her own self, when she let out a mortifyingly loud burp.

Santana bursted out laughing, and Rachel's eyes grew wide in mortification. She covered her mouth and put her head in her hands, ignoring the look the Asian man across the aisle gave her.

When Rachel continued to keep her face in her hands, Santana poked at her head, "Relax Berry, I do that shit all the time. Fuckin' hilarious."

Rachel released her head and looked up, her cheeks bright red.

"Did that really happen?" She whispered. That set Santana off again. Rachel's mortified expression turned into one of defense. "This is not funny Santana!" She whisper-yelled, "Now everyone is convinced I'm some. . . hooligan that can't control her bodily functions!"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Relax Berry, I'm pretty sure the only one that heard you was that Senior Mike Chang sitting next to you." Rachel sat up and looked around the plane. She didn't see anyone looking at her like she was a disgusting excuse for a human being, or looking at her at all for that matter, and sighed in relief. She turned around to see Mr. Schue sleeping with his mouth wide open, and Mrs. Pillsbury's head on his shoulder, eyes closed. She smiled at their adorableness. Further back she saw Finn and Quinn sitting next to each other. It looked like she was yelling at him, and Rachel felt something curl in the depth of her stomach.

She turned back around and sat completely on the hard seat again.

The flight attendant asked both the girls if they'd like anything to drink.

Rachel opened her mouth to speak but Santana cut her off, "I'll take a ginger ale, and she'll take a sprite." Rachel turned to Santana and slapped her on the arm.

"Actually, can I get a water?" The woman nodded and handed both the girls a bag of pretzels, along with their drinks.

She moved on to the next row.

"You gonna eat those pretzels?" Santana asked, pointing at the bag on Rachel's tray. Rachel shook her head, "I once read an article on airline food, and it said even the bagged pretzels are. . . what are you doing?" Rachel looked at Santana who was opening Rachel's pretzels and piling them all into her hand.

"Wanna see something funny?"

"Well, I highly doubt your idea of funny and my idea of funny are the— Santana!" Rachel scolded when Santana turned around and threw a pretzel at a sleeping Mr. Schuester. He moved slightly in his sleep, but didn't wake up.

Santana bursted out laughing, "C'mon Berry, try it. Look at Puckerman over there," Santana pointed behind her to Puck asleep on the aisle seat and Lauren reading a book that looked to be on boxing, next to him.

Rachel shook her head, "I couldn't."

"I can," Santana stated before throwing a pretzel towards Puck and hitting him straight on the nose. He woke up, startled, and looked around. Santana turned around quickly and Puck squinted his eyes at Rachel, who was still looking back at him. She quickly turned around as well.

Rachel couldn't control the small giggle that came out her mouth.

"You're awful!"

"And you love it."

"Only when you hit Noah, not Mr. Schuester!"

"Got a crush on the Teach, Berry?" Santana raised her eyebrows.

"What? Oh goodness no! I haven't crushed on Mr. Schuester since— um, ever."

Santana smirked, "Since when Berry?"

Rachel caved easily, "Okay, I may have had a _teensy _little crush on Mr. Schue last year, but it didn't last long!"

"How little is "teensy"?"

"Um, maybe we should both take a little nap. It's important to be refreshed for Nationals. It's only in two days, y'know? And of course we—"

"No way Berry, I know you. . . sort of. Or I know you did something crazy when you were crushin' on that old guy, at least. What happened?"

Rachel hesitated, looking around the plane. She made a grab for Santana's unopened bag of pretzels, but Santana snatched them from her fingertips.

"Not until you tell me."

"I may have showed up at his house uninvited and made his then-wife and him dinner and cleaned his house. . ." Rachel said in one breath. Santana burst out laughing. Rachel blushed crimson.

"Oh damn Berry. I knew you were crazy, but just. . . damn."

"In my defense," Rachel started loudly, "It was a very vulnerable time in my life! Noah and I had just broken things off and I was convinced Finn would never lov—" Rachel's voice dropped.

Santana stopped laughing, "If it makes you feel any better, he was a lousy ass time."

Rachel smiled hesitantly, "It doesn't. But I don't blame you anymore, and I admire your chivalry."

"Um, isn't chivalry, like, a dude's only thing, Berry?"

"Well, the exact definition of chivalry is "courtesy towards women", so I don't think so."

Santana rolled her eyes, but smiled.

"You know Rachel, you're not half bad."

Rachel smiled widely. "You're not half bad yourself Santana."

"Ladies and Gentleman, we will be landing shortly. Please note that the seatbelt light is on and you should remain in your seat at all times."

Rachel gasped, "We're landing! Time went by so fast! My goodness, Nationals feels so close. I think I'm having a nervy b!"

Santana laughed loudly, "A what?"

"...A Nervy B. It's from this book series I'm reading. It's quite childish, but nonetheless hilarious. It's a nice break from the quite mature literature I'm used to reading."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I read that book series too. . . when I was thirteen. "

"Yes well, I was reading Jane Eyre at thirteen."

"She sounds like a prick."

Rachel sighed.

The plane had landed and the seatbelt sign was turned off. People were already standing up in the aisle.

Rachel automatically grabbed Santana's phone from her hands and turned it off airplane mode.

"What are you doing?"

"I won the bet, remember?" Santana rolled her eyes as Rachel clicked into the Facebook App.

A moment later, Rachel handed Santana her phone back. She read her latest status aloud:

**Rachel Berry is the epitome of talent. I would kill to be like her or even sing like her. And I, Santana Lopez, may never be able to face that I am not worthy to be in her presence, but in my heart I know it's true. :D**

"This is seriously the lamest thing I've ever read in my entire life of being surrounded by lame people. . ." Rachel giggled and turned back around.

"Hey Berry."

"Yes?" Rachel turned around to look at the girl once more.

"I'm switching with whoever sits next to you on the way back."

Rachel's face lit up with a smile bigger than she'd seen on the girl for weeks, "I absolutely cannot wait!"


End file.
